


If It’s Not The Weather

by purplespacemom



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 03:51:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15501711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplespacemom/pseuds/purplespacemom
Summary: While Allura and Lotor are in Oriande, Lance tries to keep Shiro busy.





	If It’s Not The Weather

**Author's Note:**

> Oh god could it be the weather  
> Oh god why am I here  
> If love isn't forever  
> And it's not the weather  
> Hand me my leather
> 
> \- tori Amos, “leather”

“I just don’t feel like myself.”

The words tugged at something in Lance’s subconscious, something he should know, but the answer remained out of reach. “We’ll figure it out,” he offered. “Your head still bothering you?”

Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes,” he said. Then, “No. Maybe. I don’t know!”

Lance hated hearing him sound so frustrated and down on himself. “Come on, man, let’s go. _You_ clearly need to relax a little more. All this chaos is getting to you.”

“You’re right.” Shiro sounded exhausted. “Must be the stress.”

“Allura will be back in no time.” Lance assured him. “She’ll get the ship running, we’ll cart Lotor back to the Galra—it’ll be a great day!”

Shiro fell into step with him, their arms brushing as they walked. “You don’t like Lotor.”

“Nope,” Lance said, “and I don’t trust him either. But I’m outvoted, so…” He shrugged.

“You have good instincts usually.” Shiro frowned. “Maybe—“ But whatever he might have said was cut off. He winced, pressing a hand to his temple.

“Woah, you okay there?” They were closest to Lance’s room so he guided Shiro inside and led him toward the bed. Shiro shook him off and sat on the floor.

“I’ll be fine,” Shiro said. He cracked a grin. “You said it yourself. Maybe I just need to lose some stress.”

And Lance’s big dumb mouth chose that opportunity to say, “I hear sex is a great stress reliever.”

Shiro didn’t react at first. Lance was so embarrassed he wanted to shoot himself out of an airlock, but Shiro, rather than laughing at him or getting annoyed, nodded. “For an alpha, it really is,” he said ruefully. “It hasn’t exactly been an option lately.”

“It could be?” Could he not just shut his mouth? Apparently the answer to that was no. Lance was constitutionally incapable of shutting up _ever._

But Shiro continued to defy expectations. “Could it?” Something in his eyes shifted, sharpening and growing darker.

“If—if you wanted,” Lance said, tripping over his own words. 

“Okay.” Shiro leaned back against Lance’s bed. “Go for it.”

“Wait, for real?” Lance’s hands shook as they fell to his belt.

“You offered,” Shiro said. He didn’t move from where he sat with his back propped against Lance’s bed, legs splayed and knees up. “Or were you joking?” That crooked smile was going to be the end of Lance. 

“Nope, not joking!” His voice cracked, embarrassing and raw, as he worked his clothes off. When he stood naked in front of Shiro, staring down at him, Lance started to second guess. But then his eyes zeroed in on the bulge in Shiro’s pants—fuck, that wasn’t even a full knot. Lance wanted Shiro to split him in half.

“You’re practically drooling!” Shiro laughed, not meanly but tinged with disbelief. As though thinking Lance wanted him was so outrageous.

Lance dropped to his knees and half crawled, half shuffled over to Shiro until he was caged in between his thighs. “Can you blame me?” Lance put his hand on the inside of Shiro’s thigh and ran it toward the crease of his groin. Every part of him was so hard. Lance bit his lip. “No take backs!”

Shiro spread his arms, _it’s all yours_ , and waited. 

There was something unbearably erotic about being completely naked while Shiro was fully clothed. Lance ducked his head, face burning. He couldn’t hide how hard he was, not with his cock leaking in plain sight. Tugging at Shiro’s belt, he clumsily pulled open his pants.

“Have you ever done this?”

Shiro looked surprised . “Yeah.”

“But it was with an omega?”

“...yeah. But Lance,” Shiro _finally_ touched him, cupping his face, smoothing his hands down Lance’s neck and chest. “I don’t care that you’re a beta.”

Lance swallowed. “I care that you’re an alpha,” he admitted. He pushed a hand into Shiro’s pants and finally got it on that fat cock, tugging it out. 

Shiro laughed again. “Trust me, Lance. I _know_.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. Everyone probably knew how knot hungry he was. But it didn’t matter, did it? _He_ was still the one with Shiro. He was the one leaning down and taking that gorgeous dick in his mouth, sinking down inch by inch before backing off and going down again. Shiro’s hands settled on his head, not pushing or gripping. Lance wished he _would_. But he couldn’t bring himself to beg Shiro for it. _Choke me on your dick._

If _only._

Shiro’s head tipped back against the bed, his fingers flexing, pushing into Lance’s hair. Lance hollowed his cheeks, glancing up through his lashes. He could see the tension in Shiro’s neck. Putting a hand against Shiro’s stomach, his abs were tensed, too. He was holding back.

Lance pulled off, dropping lower to suck at his swelling knot. Shiro smelled _amazing_ , even to Lance’s dull beta senses. “Can you go more than once?” He jacked Shiro slow, licking from root to head.

“....twice,” Shiro said. “But if I knot, I’m done.” 

There went that plan. Lance _wanted_ Shiro to come on his face, but he’d rather get fucked, feel that knot inside him. He needed it—nothing else would be enough.

“Come on.” Lance crawled up onto his bed, flopping onto his back. He kept his legs opened. “We’ve got a few hours before we run out of air. If you don’t fuck me now, I won’t even make it _that_ long!”

Shiro rolled his eyes, but that didn’t stop him from climbing on top of Lance and rutting his cock against Lance’s, the roll of his hips edging on too hard. Lance _loved_ it. “We don’t have any condoms.”

“No space condoms,” Lance confirmed. He was nearly giddy. “But you’re not exactly going to knock me up.”

“You want me to knot you.” Shiro looked dubious. “Are you sure you can take it?”

Lance’s eyes fluttered shut. It was like something halfway out of his fantasies. He needed it a little different, needed Shiro to look down at him and tell him _you’re going to take it_. “Uh huh,” Lance nodded quickly, grabbing Shiro’s upper arms, afraid he’d back away. “I can, it’ll be great, I just need—“

“I know what you need,” Shiro cut him off. Lance’s cock jerked against him. Shiro leveled him with an unreadable look before letting out a quiet, “Huh,” like he was just piecing things together. “Spread your legs wider.”

Lance’s body trembled in its rush to comply, knees up and apart as far as he could get them. Shiro sat back on his knees, smoothed his hands up the inside of Lance’s thighs. “Lube?”

Lance flailed a hand toward his dresser. “First drawer.” He was breathless, voice hushed. 

Shiro got off the bed to retrieve it, his dick hanging out of his pants, hard. Lance craned his neck to follow but Shiro, without looking, snapped, “Keep your legs open,” so he fell back against the bed with a bounce, hands cupping the backs of his thighs. He’d be good for Shiro, so good he’d never want to bother with an omega, would never want _anyone_ like he did Lance.

“Hurry up.” Lance was panting, impatient and so turned on he wanted to crawl out of his skin, every inch of him buzzing with need. Shiro hadn’t even kissed him. He’d just _implied_ , and Lance’s knees had hit the ground in two seconds flat. He felt like a slut. It was a good feeling.

Shiro’s body leaned into his own again, his mouth against Lance’s navel, down across the sensitive skin of his cock and sac, down until Shiro’s tongue pressed into the crease of his ass, wet and hot. “Got to get you wet,” he said, breathing the words against him. “You’re going to feel so good around me.”

Lance covered his face with his hands. Good, it was _so good_ , and Shiro had barely touched him, was just circling his hole with the tip of his tongue. 

_Still_ just circling his tongue. Lance squirmed against him, chewing on his lip. _Eat me out_ , he wanted to beg. _Get me so wet you can shove your knot into me in one go._

“You look like you have something to say.” 

“Shiro,” Lance barely recognized the sound of his own voice. His thighs trembled, hands clawing almost painfully into them. Shiro pushed his grip off, slinging Lance’s legs over his shoulder. 

“If you want something, Lance, you need to ask for it.”

“Please?” He choked the word out.

“Please what?” Shiro was alpha after all. His mouth wasn’t even touching Lance anymore, just resting so close his breath was a tease, a promise. “Where’s that go getter attitude? I’ve never seen you so quiet.”

“Put your tongue in me,” Lance blurted, eyes clenched shut. “Get me wet, fuck me, I want to feel your knot for _days_!”

Shiro groaned, long and low. He was on Lance without another breath, tongue fucking into him. He slid a finger in between thrusts, working the slick into Lance until the glide was perfect and the sloppy wet sounds were almost as loud as Lance’s cries.

“More, more, don’t stop,” Lance gasped, reaching down to grab Shiro’s hair, claw his fingers into his scalp and push him harder until he was riding Shiro’s face. 

And Shiro didn’t. He fucked another finger into Lance, working him open, but they could both feel he didn’t need it. Lance was so _open_ for him, taking everything Shiro gave. He needed more, needed to get stuck on Shiro’s dick, filled up with his come, used and hung up to dry. He wanted to feel like a thing Shiro could use for his own pleasure.

Shiro pulled out and grabbed Lance’s hips, forcing them against the bed. When he looked up, his face was sopping wet with spit and lube. “Come here.” There was no way around it—those words were an order, thrumming with an alpha’s growl, the rumble of it making Lance want to turn over, to stick his ass in the air and beg to be mounted. But before he could move, Shiro tugged him down the bed until his ass pressed against Shiro’s groin, his cock sliding into the crease of Lance’s ass. Lance was half turned over, scrabbling at the sheets, trying to steady himself, but Shiro didn’t give him the time. He allowed just enough space between them to spread Lance’s ass with one hand and rut his cock against the wet opening, the head catching at the rim. 

“In,” Lance urged, almost feral. He needed it _bad_ , wanted it to hurt, to feel like he didn’t have a choice. “In, get _in_!”

Shiro let the tip push in, teasing him, pressing at Lance’s hole until it softened, pulling him in. “Almost,” he panted. Lance grit his teeth and tried to fuck back on him. Shiro slapped his ass _hard._ “Not yet,” and that was _definitely_ a growl, “not until I say so.”

Lance drooled onto the bed, his body curled on its side, ass pressed to Shiro. He couldn’t focus, could barely breathe, his entire being narrowed down to his hole, to the barely there press of Shiro’s tip. It was slick and hot and wide and _perfect._ “Please,” he slurred, hips twitching. 

Shiro’s hands were gripping his thigh and hip so hard Lance knew there would be bruises—he’d relive the experience through them, could press down on the dark shapes left behind when he got himself off.

But _after_ was still just a vague idea. Lance lived in the here and now—Shiro’s cock made sure of it.

Shiro hiked Lance’s thigh a little higher, spreading him wider. Lance couldn’t stabilize himself on the bed, entirely at Shiro’s mercy. He whimpered, mouth hanging open, while Shiro rutted harder, finally sliding into Lance inch by thick inch, slow as molasses. He wouldn’t give Lance what he wanted, holding it back on purpose. Lance could feel the satisfaction oozing out of Shiro.

“You feel _amazing_.” Shiro went deeper. Lance felt something wet on his face, burning at his eyes. “Can’t wait to get you on my knot,” a little faster now. Shiro’s patience was running out, lost in the too good feel of Lance clenching down around him.

_Give it to me_ , Lance wanted to say. _Split me open_. But words were beyond him. He couldn’t do more than pant and let out tiny punched out whimpers as his body shifted, making room. Shiro’s cock was enormous, everything Lance wanted and more.

When Shiro finally slid home, his knot brushing against Lance’s hole, Lance knew he was ruined. No other cock would do.

“You want it?” Shiro shifted, moving Lance onto his belly and then sitting back, pulling him up onto his knees. Lance’s legs quivered from the strain. He was wrecked, sweating and shaking and pleading without words, strung tight beneath the press of Shiro’s body. “Tell me you want it.”

“W—“ Lance let Shiro hold him up by the bruising grip on his hips, bouncing him on his cock. His knees kept sliding, his chest pressed to the bed. “Want you,” he managed, “want your knot,” but the words were hard to come by. “Make me,” a harder thrust, “make me take it!”

Shiro groaned, curling over Lance’s body, almost crushing him down. Lance’s cock bobbed against the bed, the light touch enough to make him jerk, wetter than he’d ever been before. “You’re going to take it,” Shiro’s thrusts rattled his bones, made him ache in the best way. His knot pushed against Lance’s hole, stretching him wider. He didn’t know if he could do it, but he’d never wanted like he did, never felt like he’d die if he didn’t get a dick in him. Just Shiro, _only_ Shiro.

Harder, faster—Shiro growled, the low rumble of it vibrating through Lance as he finally fucked his knot inside, Lance’s wrecked hole squeezing down, trapping it inside.

He could _feel_ Shiro coming, could feel himself filling up, and it hit Lance like a wave, forcing his own orgasm out of him. Crushed under Shiro’s weight, all he could do was take it, trembling and jerking through it.

Shiro rolled onto his side, bringing Lance with him, one hand rubbing at Lance’s belly. He pushed his nose into Lance’s neck, inhaling. “You’re unbelievable.” His voice sounded as raw as Lance felt.

“I can still it feel it,” Lance said, putting his hand over Shiro’s and pressing down. “You’re still coming.” 

“It’ll stop soon. It’s just… it’s been a while.”

Understandable. Lance knew jerking off wasn’t a great substitute for the real thing, and he didn’t have the mess of instincts an alpha had to deal with. “Feels good,” he said, still running on that high. He lay there until Shiro’s knot went down, basking in the afterglow, in finally having Shiro’s attention all to himself. Shiro mouthed at his neck, teeth scraping against the skin. Lance knew he wanted to bite, for all the good it would do him. Lance wanted it too.

When he finally slipped out, Lance couldn’t stop himself from trying to clench down, to keep him inside. He was going to be _so_ sore.

“Are you all right?” Shiro asked, shifting Lance onto his back and tighter in his arms. His eyebrows dipped down, that fierceness he’d had, that possessive assertiveness gone without the haze of hormones.

“I’ll be feeling this for a while,” Lance admitted. “But I’m not exactly mad about it.”

He still hadn’t kissed Lance. Lance wanted him to, knew that if he did, maybe it would mean Shiro wanted more than just a place to stick his dick. Lance would take what he could get, but a guy could dream.

Shiro’s full attention was intense. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. It was just—I’ve never felt so out of control outside of a rut. You make me crazy.”

That… what was _that_ supposed to mean? “Do I?” He wanted to make a joke, but Lance couldn’t. _Tell me more. Do something!_

Shiro’s eyes dropped to Lance’s mouth. He moved closer, cradling Lance in his arms just so. Lance had never felt so wanted. He couldn’t stand the idea of the moment ending.

They were a bare inch apart. Shiro’s breath fanned across Lance’s lips. A little closer, just a little—

The alarm sounded, jarring and impossibly loud. They jumped apart in a panic, Shiro rolling off the bed and Lance tangling himself in the sheets with a yelp.

“ _Get to the main deck_ ,” Pidge said across the comms. “ _Oxygen levels are getting too low. We have to redirect to one area, so get moving_!”

“I guess that’s our cue.” Shiro went into the bathroom. “Let’s get cleaned up,” he called. “Sounds like the repairs aren’t going well.”

Lance stood—and immediately sat back down. He _ached_ , and that wasn’t even mentioning the stickiness. Shiro had moved on, just like that. Lance wanted to ask if he’d meant to kiss him just then, if there was something more to this than sex. But what came out was, “How’s your head?”

Shiro walked out of the bathroom, cleaned up and ready to go. “My head?”

“Your headache? Are you feeling better?”

Shiro’s blank expression set off a warning in Lance, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “I don’t know what you mean. I feel fine. Are _you_ feeling okay?”

Was he? Lance frowned. “I’m okay,” he said. He must have been making a big deal of nothing. “Must be the lack of oxygen,” he joked.

Shiro didn’t seem to find that funny. He just told Lance to get cleaned up and meet him on deck. Something about his eyes seemed off.

But what did Lance know? Other than making a mountain of a molehill, apparently nothing.


End file.
